


Play To Your Strengths

by fuzipenguin



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 15:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20914346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: FIve is troubled by things she's done and finds support from someone unexpected





	Play To Your Strengths

**Author's Note:**

> Follow up to season 1, episode 10/11

It’s later that night, when things are finally settled down that it sinks in: Five had shot a man five times in the chest. And he hadn’t gotten back up after.

She had killed someone.

Maybe she had killed before the memory wipe; her scattered recollections of her own life indicated that she had at least been a thief. Maybe she had been a killer too, used to taking lives. Regardless, this time around, it’s all new to her.

Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Cain’s surprised face. She hears the report of the gun, smells the faint ozone of its discharge. No matter how exhausted she is, she can’t sleep with the memory playing on repeat. So with trembling hands, she pulls a pair of loose pants and a sweater over her sleep clothes.

The rest of the ship is silent as she aimlessly wanders the corridors. Everyone else is either asleep or nursing their hypoxia-induced headaches. Even the Android is recharging, recuperating from the shock stick attack.

Five finally ends up in the Mess. Feeling as if her limbs belong to someone else, she makes herself a cup of hot chocolate and curls up on the small couch that lines the far wall. The warmth and smell of the drink is soothing, and she brings the cup up close to her face, closing her eyes to savor the steam bathing her cheeks.

After a moment however, she swears the scent of cocoa turns coppery and her eyes snap back open. She stares down into her cup with a growing sense of horror. It’s dark in the mess because she had only turned on one light, but the liquid in her cup now seems dark red and thick. Five knows it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she can’t see anything else but blood. With a choked off whimper, she plunks the cup on the end table and hugs her knees to her chest, staring over the top of them into nothing.

“What’re you drinkin’?”

Five startles in surprise, turning to see a shadowy figure looming in the doorway. Her heart begins to pound until the person moves forward and she recognizes Three. He’s clutching a full bottle of whiskey in one hand, his hair sticking up in multiple different directions as if he had either been running his hands through it or sleeping badly.

Considering the revelation about Two, Five thinks it could have been either.

Three gestures towards Five’s cup as he shuffles further into the room. Five realizes he’s barefoot, clad in a ragged white t-shirt with cut off sleeves and a pair of threadbare sleep pants. As a shiver runs through her, she wonders how he can stand the chill in the air.

“Um… hot chocolate,” Five replies hesitantly, giving the cup another glance. The liquid inside looks to be the proper color now, but her stomach roils at the thought of drinking it. 

Three grunts, shifting to circle the table in the center of the room. He plops down next to her on the couch, sniffing in the direction of the still gently steaming cup.

“Got any more of that?” he asks, not so subtly.

Rolling her eyes, she reaches out to snag the cup and hands it to him. If Three suddenly stopped poaching others’ food, the world was probably ending.

At least that’s still the same. Not much else is, but it seems she can rely on Three for consistency.

“Thanks,” Three mutters, absently giving her the bottle of whiskey in exchange. Five blinks at the amber-colored liquid for a moment before putting it down on the table.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks after a sip of the cocoa. After making a pleased hum in the back of his throat he looks at her curiously.

Five averts her eyes as she shakes her head. “No. Not really. I keep seeing…”

She trails off with a shudder, seeing Cain’s body hit the deck once more.

“Hey, it’s ok. Two’s still with us. Half robot, but still alive,” Three remarks bitterly, yet the shoulder bump he gives her is gentle.

Five’s head whips around. “No, it’s not that! I mean, that was horrible, seeing her sucked out the airlock like that. But it’s…”

Three’s forehead furrows as he considers her, and she realizes he might not know. Two had certainly stolen the limelight with her revelation and it wasn’t as if either her or Five had gone into detail about the deaths of Wexler and his crew.

“I killed Cain,” Five says, her voice breaking slightly. “I shot him.”

“You… _you_ killed Cain?” Three repeats, shock making his eyes wide.

Before the expression could turn judgmental, Five rushes to continue.

“He caught Two by surprise… told her to drop her weapon. He had a gun aimed at her and I knew… I couldn’t lose her again. So I shot him. I… it… in the chest… five times…” Five trailed off, shame and disgust rising up within her.

Three’s heavy stare is practically palpable, but she can’t look at him. She bites her lip instead and stares at her lap.

After a moment, she hears Three make a small, pleased sound. “… good.”

Five’s head whips up. “Good?” she says, aghast.

Three makes a face. “Well… not good, I guess. We’re gonna have to work on your shooting, teach you to get a faster kill shot. You never know when you may run out of bullets… or someone may steal them.”

He flashes her a grin, which quickly fades into a look of confusion when Five can’t seem to close her mouth. “Uh… what?”

“Don’t you get it?!” Five demands. “I _killed _someone!”

Three blinks a few times. “…and?”

“_Killed _someone. As in_ dead_!” she exclaims, verging on hysteria.

Three is staring at her warily and she realizes that tears are rolling down her cheeks. She hastily wipes at her eyes, sniffling.

“Ohhhh… it was your first time?” Three asks, and to her surprise, his voice is soft and understanding.

Five nods miserably, and it’s Three’s turn to look away, worrying at his bottom lip.

“Did you enjoy it?” he finally asks.

“What?! No!” Five replies vehemently, feet slipping off the edge of the couch to land on the decking with a thud. How could he even think…?!

“And did you shoot in self-defense or to protect someone else?” Three asks before she can protest further. He raises an inquiring eyebrow.

“I just told you! He was about to kill Two!” Five cries.

Three nonchalantly shrugs, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. “Well, there you go… perfectly justified. ‘sides, all of them were assholes. You saw what they did to Two and One. And I saw the way Cane was looking at you. He fucking deserved to get shot.”

Five stares at Three, flabbergasted. It’s apparently as simple as that for him. And what he says makes sense. It’s not like she had been out randomly killing people and getting a kick out of it. Still…

“I…”

The tears start falling faster, and Three’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Aw, Hell, kid…” Three murmurs, hurriedly placing the cup of cocoa down as he turns towards her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Five gasps, burying her face into her hands. Her eyes burn and her chest hurts, and she feels dizzy, adrift in a sea of guilt and shame.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Three says quietly, shifting closer. A heavy weight drapes itself over her shoulders and she blindly turns into him, burying her face against his chest. Three’s other hand comes up to cup the back of her head and as she starts sobbing, she absently thinks he’s pretty good at hugs.

He’s warm and firm and smells surprisingly good. Nothing like the spicy cologne One favors or the musky scent that always surrounds Six. No, Three smells like worn cotton right out of the laundry, with just the faintest hint of leather. It’s calming and _right_ and makes her feel safe. She clings to him more tightly, bringing her knees up so that they spill over his thighs. She’s tempted to scoot her way up into his lap but she thinks that might be going too far.

Five doesn’t know how long she cries for. Long enough to make her head stuffy and her eyes swollen. And Three never pushes her away. He just sits there and lets her cry against him.

As her sobs start dying down, she rubs her face against his chest, seeking relief for her itchy eyes. The fingers at the back of her head twitch a little.

“You aren’t rubbing your snot all over me, are ya? This is my favorite shirt,” Three complains.

Five backs off slightly, just enough to see that she’s left a pretty big wet spot on the center of his chest. It’s just tears though.

… she thinks.

“This? It looks like a cleaning rag,” she murmurs. Maybe that’s why she keeps getting a whiff of gun oil every now and then.

“It’s comfortable,” Three replies defensively. He pauses for a long moment before speaking again. “… you ok?”

Five pushes herself completely away although her knees press lightly against his outer thigh. She immediately misses his warmth and wraps her arms around herself to ward off the chill. Nodding, she finally raises her eyes to look at him.

She’s never seen such a soft, concerned expression on Three’s face before. Five thinks she must be imagining it because an instant later, he wrinkles his nose and purses his lips.

“Ugh. You certainly don’t cry pretty, do you?”

Five rolls her eyes and hauls off to punch him in the shoulder while her other hand furiously scrubs at her face.

“You’re such an asshole,” she complains, huffing a laugh despite herself.

He grins unabashedly. “Like that’s a surprise?”

“Sometimes I forget,” she admits, the imprint of his arms around her helping to keep the shadows at bay. “Like now. You don’t look that tough with tearstains all over your shirt.”

Three shrugs. “Well, I ain’t no Two, but I can still hold my own. So let’s keep up your training, but leave the shooting to us assholes as much as possible, alright? Besides… you’ve got your own talents.”

Five sniffs. “I _am_ the best at fixing things.”

“We gotta play to our strengths,” Three says, nodding in agreement. He nudges her arm with the back of his hand. “Hey, it’s late; you should probably head back to bed. I’m sure something’s gonna break tomorrow that needs your ridiculously tiny fingers to fix. Can’t be tired and making mistakes that gets us blown up or something.”

Three’s right. She’s tired and she does have several projects she needs to work on, but… Five sucks on her lower lip, remembering the way the darkness of her room had crowded in on her as she had laid in her bed.

“… you know if you’re not that sleepy yet, you can always come hang out in my room. I’ll probably be up for a while. You ever see kung fu movies?” Three offers. 

“Kung… fu? No, what’s that?” Five asks, sufficiently distracted from thoughts of blood and death.

Three grins like the child they all know he really is. “Aw man, you’re gonna love this. C’mon, kid!”

\--

Kung fu movies are… _awesome _and she loves the overdone acting and stunts. They watch two whole films and are partway into a third when she falls asleep against his side. Her head is pillowed on his chest and his hand is playing with the ends of her hair, and when she dreams, it’s of a pleasantly hazy warmth and safety.

~ End


End file.
